Page:The Dark Frigate (Hawes).djvu/84

As the two came into the town they saw at a distance a crowd gathering. Dogs barked and boys shouted and men came running and laughing, which seemed to give promise of rare sport of one kind or another.

“See!” cried Phil, catching Martin by the arm. “Here’s a game. Come, let us join the cry.”

“Thou art a very pattern of blockishness,’’ quoth Martin. ‘‘Would’st see us in pillory, egged, turnipped, nay, beaten at the post?”

“Come, old frog, I for one will run the hazard.”

“Old frog, is it?’’ Martin’s face flamed redder than before. ‘‘An we loiter there’ll be sharp eyes upon us. My very throat is itching at the thought. Justice is swift. Who knows but we’ll swing by sundown? Hast never considered the pains of hanging? The way they dance and twitch is enough to take the sap out of a man’s legs.”

Martin’s fears were an old story and the lad heeded them so little, save when he would make game of them, that he never even smiled. ‘‘See!” he cried. ‘‘There’s a man in their midst. Stay! Who is he? He is — yea, he is the very one, come back to Bideford despite his fears. And it seems the townsfolk know him well.”

The jeering mob parted and revealed a lank man with a great book. His voice rose above their clamour, "O well beloved, O well beloved, never was a man perplexed with such diversity of thoughts!”

But Martin was gone, and Phil hastening after him saw a face in a window, which was watching Martin hurry through the town. And when Phil pursued Martin the eyes in the window scanned the lad from head to foot.

They found lying at the quay the vessel they sought,